


wherever we're opened we're red

by thatviciousvixen



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Dark, Like it doesn't start out dark, M/M, but trust me it's going to get dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:26:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatviciousvixen/pseuds/thatviciousvixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonny is attacked. Sonny starts to change. It's all Rafael can do to keep up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wherever we're opened we're red

**Author's Note:**

> "Everybody is a book of blood. Wherever we're opened, we're red." -Clive Barker

The sky above Manhattan is inky black. The city is filled with the hazy neon glow of signs and and the golden warmth of street lamps when Rafael shoots out of bed from a deep sleep, eyes wide in the darkness. Somewhere in the back of his mind the remnants of a nightmare gnaw at him; he can’t place exact details, but he can see something monstrous and large with a wide smile and sharp teeth. His heart beats rabbit-like in his chest. Sweat slicks his lower back and temples, his Harvard t-shirt sticking to his skin and making him feel bound and constricted. He yanks it off and throws it across the room.

Forty-five and scared of monsters in his dreams. Pitiful.

With a shudder and groan he throws back the thick down comforter tangled up in his legs and drags himself out of bed, feet padding softly against the hardwood floor as he makes his way into the darkness of his kitchen. He can’t remember the last time he had a nightmare like this. Normally his nights are calm and dreamless, thanks to a prescription for Ambien and a very expensive mattress and white noise machine. To be so shaken that it wakes him up, and to still feel the prickling fear scattered across his skin? It’s a bizarre feeling.

Almost as bizarre as his phone ringing at two-seventeen in the morning. He dashes back into the bedroom, stubbing his toe on the door frame leading into his bedroom and making it just in time to pick up on the last ring. “Rafael Barba, what the actual hell do you want?”

“Rafael?” It’s Liv. It’s Liv and she sounds scared, which immediately turns Rafael’s stomach as he thinks of Noah and what might be wrong.

“Is everything okay? Is Noah okay?” he asks, suddenly wide awake and afraid for entirely different reasons. “Where are you? I’m coming right now.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I mean yes, I need you here, but Noah’s fine,” Olivia says, trying to keep her voice firm and in control despite how clearly spooked she is. “We’re at the hospital, it’s Carisi. There was some sort of accident and he’s in pretty bad shape, Finn, Dodds and Rollins are on their way here so we can look into it but I need someone to keep an eye on Noah…”

Rafael feels a bit guilty for being so relieved. He’s sorry for whatever is going on with the detective, but it’s not Noah. Noah has already been through so much in such a short period of time, he doesn’t need any more suffering or pain. “I’m coming, give me ten minutes to get dressed and get a taxi. Keep breathing, he’ll be okay Liv.”

“He will,” she agrees. “But whatever bastard did this to him won’t.”

Rafael makes it to the hospital much sooner than he intended, thanks to blessedly light traffic and a sizable tip to the driver who picks him up. The autumn air snaps bitter teeth at his fingertips and his ears but soon he is in the heat and blindingly sterile whiteness of the hospital lobby. 

“Barba!”

Finns voice calls to him over the chatter of noise. He turns to see him striding over, a look of grim determination on his face. “Come on, Olivia and Dodds are up in the room talking to him. They told us not to push it since it’s past visiting hours, but it’s an active case so they have to let us in. I’d like to see them keep us out anyway,” he mutters, leading Rafael to the elevator and punching the call button aggressively.

“What do you know so far?”

“Not much,” he says with a sigh, shoulders sagging. “He doesn’t remember much right now, and a lot of it doesn’t make sense. He’s got wounds that are consistent with an animal attack, but bruises and lacerations that look like they were done by human hands. He’s still too out of it from surgery to be any use answering questions.”

Rafael shakes his head as the doors open and they step inside. Finn hits the button for the tenth floor. “Where was he?”

“Walking home from a bar. Don’t know which one,” Finn says simply. Rafael suspects there might be more to it than that, but he doesn’t press. Soon they’re stepping into a hallway, quiet save for the rhythmic beeping of heart monitors in each room they pass.

“Brace yourself, it’s rough,” Finn warns as he turns into a room on the left.

Two heads whip up as they come in, Olivia and Dodds sitting on either side of the hospital bed. He doesn’t know much about Dodds yet, but he must be getting along with everyone just fine because he looks just as tense and agitated as the rest of them. His left knee bounces, softly jingling the keys that must be in his pocket. On the other side of the bed Olivia is grim and stoic, a sleeping Noah sprawled out over her lap. He slowly lets his eyes move to Sonny, lying between them. 

It’s all he can do not to gasp. Finn wasn’t joking, the extent of his injuries are extreme. Bruises have turned the left side of his face a mottled purple and yellow, his left eye covered in a patch of gauze that’s been taped down to his skin. The right side of his face looks more like raw meat than anything. Various jagged cuts and tears have been stitched back together, some covered and patched, some left to air out. A particularly violent wound sweeps from the corner of his lips up to his cheekbone. 

“Jesus,” he breathes, voice barely a whisper. He doesn’t have much of a relationship with Carisi, but he’s been around him enough to know that he’s a sweet guy with an eagerness to please. There’s no way he could ever deserve something like this. “And there’s no witness, no one who saw this happen?”

“Nothing yet,” Olivia sighs, pushing her hair back. “We’re leaving now to check out the alley they found him in.”

Rafael’s eyes flicker to her, uncertain. “But this isn’t...is this an SVU case?”

Olivia looks confused for a moment before her eyes widen in understanding. “No! No, as far as we know there’s no sexual trauma.”

“We’ve just got a vested interested to find this son of a bitch,” Dodds adds darkly, standing. “Are we ready?” He looks like he’s ready to jump out of the window if it’ll get him on the street faster. They all do. 

Olivia stands, kissing Noah’s forehead before passing him gingerly to Rafael. “Thank you again for taking him, his sitter is out of town. You don’t mind hanging on to him until morning?”

“Of course not,” Rafael insists. “I’ll keep him as long as you need me to, he can come with me to the office tomorrow and you can pick him up whenever.” He glances at Carisi, jaw set. “Take your time. Catch whoever did this.”

She looks at him, jaw set as she nods. “We intend to.”

-

A week passes. While he can imagine the entire squad is on edge and reeling from the attack on one of their own, his own life drips by with agonizing slowness without them constantly beating down his door. Still, he’s not going to complain while Sonny Carisi is slowly knitting back together in a hospital bed. He doesn’t have the right.

“How is he?” he asks Olivia in the few moments he has with her that week. They’re squeezing in a cup of coffee, trying to catch each other up on their respective lives before they have to rush back to them.

“Bored,” she says, rolling her eyes. “His memory is coming back in fits and starts, and he’s frustrated that he can’t help solve his own case. I wish I were shocked, I really do.”

Rafael grins, sipping his latte. “Sounds like him. Any word on when he’s supposed to get out?”

A look of worry flickers across Olivia’s face. “Not...yet,” she says carefully. “His bruises are mostly gone, but his other wounds...they’re not healing up like they should. He’s also pretty agitated, I’m afraid he’s going to need a psych eval if he doesn’t calm down soon. Anyone else I’d expect some sort of lashing out, but him...he’s not himself. It’s weird.”

“I can’t imagine what he’s feeling,” Rafael says, shaking his head. “Not being able to fully remember, being stuck in a room while the world keeps spinning around you. Give it time, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Olivia says absently, looking out the window as she fidgets with her cup.

Another week trickles by, and before he knows it Rafael is walking into the hospital with a bag of food in one hand and a steaming hot black coffee in the other. He’s not exactly sure why he’s here. Ever since the first night thoughts of Carisi have nagged him, the detective always on the edges of his consciousness as he moves throughout his day. He can’t explain it, he’s never had much interest in the man before and now he can’t stop thinking about him.

He figures it’s half curiosity, half favor to Olivia that brings him into the hospital room to see a clearly frustrated Carisi flipping listlessly through the channels on the tiny TV hung over his bed. Rafael stops in the doorway to take him in before his presence is noticed. Carisi’s wounds really aren’t healing. They look almost as jagged and raw as the day he was brought in, pink around the edges and slightly inflamed. At least the bruises have gone away. Left eye now uncovered, Rafael can see the neat pink slice that stops at his brow bone and picks up again at his cheek. He got lucky - any deeper and the cut would have taken the eye.

With a breath he knocks on the door frame, stepping inside.

Immediately Carisi’s entire disposition changes. He sits up slightly, eyes bright and lips twisting up into a crooked smile as he flicks the TV off. “Counselor! I didn’t expect to see you here…”

“I didn’t expect to see me here either, Carisi,” Rafael says, offering a wry smile. “I was passing by and thought you might be interested in food and coffee that isn’t terrible.” He holds up the bags, the smell of something grilled and seasoned wafting out. Carisi groans softly in appreciation. “Amanda told me you take your coffee black? If not I’ll run down to the cafe for some creamer.”

“No, black is perfect, and please for the love of God call me Sonny.” Carisi - Sonny - is looking at him with unbridled gratitude. “That smells friggin’ amazing, you really didn’t have to do this.”

Rafael laughs, pulling the tray table over Sonny’s lap so he can set out the food. He’s gone all out; steak, salad, garlic bread, a baked potato. It occurs to him that he should have checked to make sure Sonny is _allowed_ to eat this stuff right now, but what the hell. The detective looks like Christmas has come early, Rafael doesn’t regret it for a moment. 

“I had them cook it medium to be safe, I hope that’s okay,” he adds.

“That’s more than okay,” Sonny says, slightly stunned. He’s looking up at Rafael like he’s never really seen him before. “Thank you.” 

Rafael smiles and sits. “You’re welcome. Mind if I keep you company while you eat?”

“As long as you don’t mind me eating like I haven’t in years,” Sonny grins, tearing into a piece of garlic bread. He lets out an appreciative moan, adjusting so he can sit up a bit better. “How’s everything been around the precinct? I can’t believe they still have me stuck in here, they’re understaffed enough without all this bullshit.”

“Please don’t take this as a slight, but they’re doing fine without you,” Rafael says firmly. “You’re not going to be any good to anyone if you force yourself back before you’re properly healed. Speaking of, still no memories of the attack?”

Sonny gives a small shrug, suddenly focused on cutting into his steak. “No luck. I remember leaving the bar, and then I woke up in the hospital.”

“So bizarre,” Rafael says. He’s about to say more when Sonny slices off a bite of the stake and goes to take a bite. “Wait!” The inside, instead of the proper light pink of medium-well meat, is a vivid, angry red. “I specifically told them medium to medium-well, that...Jesus, that looks almost raw. I’m so sorry, let me run back, I’ll have them fix it-”

“No!” Sonny says quickly, eyes wide. “No, this is good! I...I actually kind of like it this way,” he adds, grinning sheepishly. 

Rafael eyes him warily but sits back down. “Alright, if you insist,” he says slowly.

“Really, I promise,” Sonny says emphatically. “Honestly, I feel like this is the first real food I’ve eaten in weeks.” He takes another bite, and the sheer delight on his ragged face is enough to sell Rafael. 

Sonny’s been through hell. If he wants raw steak, then who is Rafael to tell him no?

-

One visit becomes two, which turns into three and four, and by the time Sonny is ready to be released Rafael has grown strangely fond of him. It's not something he expected in the least; the younger man is mouthy and bold, rough around the edges and a little too eager to please. Rafael isn't a subtle person, and has no time for tricky things like emotional attachments. Still, he feels an eagerness deep in his chest as he walks down the hall with the intention of escorting Sonny out of his temporary prison. 

He's greeted at the door by a sour looking nurse, a change of bedsheets in her hands as she waits to go in. 

“Good luck,” she mutters darkly. “Doc just told him we need to keep him another hour, I think he would have torn the room apart if he didn't have an IV port in his arm.” Voice are drifting through the door, one smooth and low, the other raising in pitch the longer the conversation carries on.

Rafael opens the door without permission, walking boldly in. Sonny is sitting straight up in his bed, eyes wide, hair sticking up at every angle, one arm frantically gesticulating as he speaks. There’s a doctor standing beside him with his hands up as he tries to calm him down.

“I’ve already been here three weeks, I don’t understand why you need to keep me one minute longer!”

“Mr. Carisi, please. We have to wait for the hematologist to clear your blood work, he’s coming now from another hospital and then you’ll be discharged. Please just stay calm.”

Sonny makes a noise vaguely akin to a growl, and Rafael decides to step in. “Hey!” Both Sonny and the doctor whip around to look at him, two sets of eyes widening in surprise. He puts his hands on his hips, mouth pursed in annoyance. “Why are you yelling at one of the people who kept you alive when you came in torn to pieces?”

Sonny’s face is imploring as he reaches out to Rafael. “They want to keep me longer, but I’m going crazy Raf. You’re a lawyer, can’t you talk them into letting me go home sooner?”

“Not if this is still where you need to be.” Rafael moves closer, taking Sonny’s hand and soothingly running his thumb over the knuckles. While Sonny is slowly getting better he’s still a sight. The cuts on his face are healing into angry-looking pink scars, a maze of lines that crisscross over his pale skin. He hadn’t noticed before, but Sonny’s left eye seems to be more dilated than the other. The pupil is wide and dark, pushing the crystal blue iris to a thin line around the edge. 

Rafael sits, still holding Sonny’s hand in his own. “What’s got you so upset, hmm? You’re being an ass, these people are only doing their jobs.”

Sonny has the decency to look sufficiently guilty, ducking his head down. “Sorry. I just...I feel like I’m suffocating in here, if I don’t get some fresh air soon I’m going to go insane.” He’s clinging to Rafael’s hand like a lifeline. “All I’ve seen are these God awful white walls for almost a month now. I swear to God, I’m going to lose it.”

“No you aren’t, stop being dramatic.” Rafael glances at the doctor, who shoots him a grateful look and backs out of the room. “You’ve got to realize that you’re not healing as quickly as you should be. You can see that, right?”

A small shrug is his only response for a long moment, before Sonny once more finds the will to speak. “If I was able to exercise and eat decent food I bet I’d heal up faster.”

“Or you’d get an infection and lose an eye or something,” Rafael says pointedly. He stands, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Sonny immediately curls towards his warmth. Heart fluttering slightly in his chest, Rafael raises his hand to stroke through his fluffy curls. “Just relax. You’ve made it almost a month, one more hour isn’t going to kill you.”

Sonny glances up meekly, embarrassed over his earlier interaction with the doctor. “Stay with me?”

Rafael knows he ought to examine the nature of this relationship, what’s happening between them, but Sonny looks sweet and hopeful and reaches over to twist his hand in the front of his shirt. “As long as you need me to.”

-

It’s a fairly ordinary Friday night when Rafael jerks awake from a nightmare, the second time in as many months. This time the monster that chases him is a bit clearer. A gaping mouth smiles wide, full of gleaming, knife-sharp fangs that drip with saliva and gore as he’s hunted through a maze of city streets. The creature has eyes far too large for its skull, massive orbs covered in a milky film that obscures the iris and pupil and reminds him of blind creatures that dwell in caves and wait for unsuspecting prey to step too close. Its limbs are too long, hands and feet too large and nails too sharp and talon-like.

It looks like a human that’s been stretched thin, starved and beaten and brutalized until it is maddened and mindless of anything other than its hunger.

He glances at the clock, realizing with a groan that his alarm is set to go off in twenty minutes. No point in going back to sleep. It takes a great deal of effort, but he manages to pull himself into the bathroom for a scalding hot shower and then back out for a scalding hot cup of coffee. From the shower to his office it’s a blur, life only sliding back into sharp focus when he stops by the SVU to check on a case they’ve been working on.

Sonny is sitting at his office chatting animatedly with Dodds, making grand gestures with his hands and wearing a smile a mile wide. “Don’t you look happy to be back,” Rafael says with a smirk, folding his arms and watching as the two glance over.

Sonny’s smile somehow seems to grow in intensity as he stands and heads over to greet Rafael. “I feel happy to be back,” he nods. “I can’t tell you how friggin’ good it feels to be out of that hospital room.” Somehow his improved attitude helps diminish the appearance of the scars he will surely carry for the rest of his life. They’re still there, vivid and angry and sharp, but it’s easier not to focus on them when Sonny’s eyes are sparkling and he’s talking a mile a minute.

“Did the doctor say anything about these?” Rafael asks, grasping Sonny lightly by the chin and turning his face to get a better look. “They still look pretty...angry.”

A shrug is all he gets in response before Sonny is talking again, hands gesticulating wildly as he tells some half-related story about a woman eying him on the subway that morning. Rafael only half listens, still too busy judging his healing progress to give his full attention. Good thing he’s an expert at looking like he’s interested.

“Carisi. Can Barba please go about his day?” Olivia calls from her office, fondly exasperated. “He’s got other things to do, I’m sure.”

Rafael grins, shrugging. “You heard the woman,” he says, patting Carisi’s arm. “I’ll stop by on my way out.”

He makes his way into Liv’s office, and the real work of the day begins. It’s torturously mundane and slow, file after file of witness statements and court cases and old crime scene photos that might in some way be related if only they could figure out why. They break for lunch around noon, but as soon as they’ve got their takeaway boxes from China King across the street it’s right back to work. The hours pass slowly, and by the time six o’clock rolls around Barba practically has to drag himself out the door and down the steps to the subway. 

His night is as uninteresting and “normal” as it ever is. He makes himself something simple for dinner - chicken and rice - before cleaning up and settling in to watch a few episodes of House of Cards. By the time he’s starting the fourth episode he’s nodding to sleep every few minutes, head jerking up every time it dips too far forward. At ten-twenty he gives in and turns off the entertainment system, stripping out of his sweats and crawling into bed for a night of - hopefully - uninterrupted sleep.

His phone rings three hours later.

He doesn’t check the caller ID - his contacts are out and his glasses are across the room, he couldn’t if he wanted to. It takes a decent amount of squinting to even see the “Talk” button, which he pokes at with mounting irritation.

“ _What?_ ”

“C-counselor?”

There is an immediate dread in the pit of his stomach as Rafael recognizes Sonny’s voice. The man on the other end of the line sounds terrified. The breath that follows his trembling greeting is ragged, a frantic puff of breath accompanied by a soft, unconscious moan.

“Sonny? What’s wrong, are you okay?” He sits up, fumbling for the light and getting up to retrieve his glasses. “Where are you right now?”

Sonny pauses for a moment, swallowing audibly. Rafael can hear the click of his throat as he works down whatever fear is bubbling up inside of him. “I...shit, shit, this is so stupid, I’m sorry, I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“Sonny!” Rafael practically barks, wanting to stop him before he hangs up. “Don’t you dare hang up on me. What’s going on?” He sits on the edge of the bed, alarmed to find that his hands are trembling. “Talk to me or so help me God…”

“Okay, I’m okay,” Sonny stammers. “I just...I’m sorry. I had this dream, and you were...Jesus and I was…”

Rafael takes a deep breath, pressing his palm to his forehead. He’s trying to stay calm and patient, but it’s hard when a million terrible scenarios are racing through his head. “You had a nightmare? That’s fine Sonny, it’s fine. Are you physically okay right now though? I can come get you.”

“No, I’m fine,” Sonny says, voice starting to even out. He makes a frustrated noise. “It seemed so _real_. I woke up sick to my stomach and had to...to call and make sure you were okay. I’m so sorry, I know it’s so late.”

Rafael glances at the clock and shakes his head. “Please don’t worry about it. I’m glad you called me, to make yourself feel better. It’s Friday, it’s not like I can’t just sleep in tomorrow morning.”

“I’ve never been so relieved for a Saturday off,” Sonny agrees, voice still trembling. Rafael’s heart gives a pitiful ache in his chest. To hear someone so genuinely sweet and good sound so _broken_ hurts him in a way he can’t fully understand. Or maybe a way he doesn’t want to understand.

Finally making his way over to his glasses, Rafael checks the clock once more before flicking a few lights on. “Sonny, how far away do you live from my office?”

“Probably twenty, thirty minutes?” Sonny says, sounding vaguely confused. “Why?”

Rafael steels his nerves before answering. “My house isn’t far from work. Come over. You’re freaked out, your dream involved me somehow, and I doubt you’ll be able to relax there on your own. I’m going to text you my address, get dressed and you can stay in my guest room.”

There’s a moment of silence before Sonny makes a nervous, stammering reply. “I couldn’t do that, it’s too early, I can’t impose…”

“Sonny.” Rafael sighs, padding into his kitchen to pull a water glass down from the cupboard. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. I’ll send you my address now, see you soon.” With that he hangs up, texts Sonny the address, and pours himself a particularly cold glass of water. He’s never had a nurturing instinct before, so he has to own up to the fact that this inclination to take care of Sonny is due to attraction; mutual attraction, if he’d have to venture a guess. He wants to see him calm and happy and at ease, and the only way to do that is to get him out of his apartment and get him out of his own head. 

Olivia is going to kill him.

By the time his buzzer rings he’s brushed his teeth and pulled on pajama pants and an old t-shirt so he doesn’t answer the door in his boxers. He barely remembers to slide his fingers through his mess of dark hair as he opens the door to a sheepish looking Sonny. 

He looks ill.

It’s not just the wounds, that part Rafael is getting used to. It’s something in the way Sonny carries himself now. He seems to sag forward, shoulders hunched and head low, entire being compressed in on itself where he used to take up a whole room with his charisma alone. That pitiful ache in Rafael’s chest grows into something that feels more like panic. He reaches forward, taking Sonny’s hand in his own and leading him inside.

“I’m going to be honest,” he says slowly. “You look like hell.”

“I feel like hell,” Sonny says with a weak chuckle. His left eye hasn’t returned to normal, if anything the pupil has pushed out to swallow even more of the iris. There’s barely any blue left, it’s a strange effect. “Counselor-”

“Rafael.”

Sonny pauses, eyes flickering quickly over Rafael’s face. He apparently finds what he’s looking for, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Rafael. I’m really sorry about all of this, I...I just haven’t been sleeping very well lately. I haven’t been sleeping much at all.”

Rafael leads him to the couch, urging him to sit before pressing a glass of water into his hands. “I told you, there’s no need to apologize.” Leaning forward into Sonny’s personal space, Rafael makes a point to catch his gaze. “Listen to me. You’ve been through a serious trauma. What you experienced...Jesus, I would never handle it as well as you are. But there are going to be days where it’s too much, and you can’t do it alone, and I need you to know that you can come to me when that happens. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. I understand.” Sonny’s voice is hoarse. He looks overwhelmed, like this intimate moment on the couch is harder to process than the attack itself. “Rafael…”

“Hmm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Rafael pauses, breath catching in his throat. While he’s considered kissing Sonny before he hadn’t expected it to come up so soon. Usually his relationships start with tons of unnecessary drama and one party chasing the other around until it all seems like too much work. Leave it to Sonny, sweet, bold Sonny, to cut to the chase. He scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip before giving a small nod. “Yeah. Yes. You can kiss me.”

The smile he gets in return is beautiful and bright and genuine, everything good about Sonny rolled up into a simple expression. He moves forward like a magnet pulled towards precious metal, too focused on the sweet pink flush of Sonny’s lips to worry about scars or stitches or permanently-dilated eyes or any of it. Sonny leans in close and soon their mouths are pressed together, a sweet, chaste meeting of lips that’s over far too quickly for Rafael’s liking.

Sonny pulls away, grinning like a complete idiot. “Wow.”

All Rafael can do is huff out a laugh, resting his forehead against Sonny’s and closing his eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me, Sonny Carisi.” If something tense and afraid flashes behind Sonny’s eyes, well, he doesn’t see.

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh it feels good to post this, I've been working on it for quite some time now! Come join me on [tumblr](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com)!


End file.
